She Said, He Heard
by sheltielover
Summary: I did the one thing that could complicate all this mess even more. I fell for my best friend.


**A/N:** Yes, I know I should be working on Sick of Second Best but this just hit me. I've got exams this week! Fun. So after I post this it's study time! Tell me what you think. It's not the best I've written, but I just wanted to get it on paper.

**Disclaimer:** I am making no profit off this story. None of these characters or settings belong to me…or do they? No, I'm just kidding. Really. Don't sue me.

You would think that being a teenager would be hard enough, what with peer pressure, school, added responsibilities, and fights with your parents. You'd be wrong. No, they had to add hormones on top of all that. I personally am a strong supporter of locking all teenagers in rooms by themselves from the beginning of puberty to the end of adolescence. No one consulted me though. Hell, why should they? Ron Weasley did the one thing that could complicate all this mess even more. I fell for my best friend.

NOT HARRY YOU SICKO!

Harry knows though. He's the only one who does. He started going out with my sister and for some reason they didn't like me tagging along on their dates. Harry suggested I run off with Hermione and leave him and Ginny alone.

Bumbling, idiotic, oblivious me sunk into a daydream instead of adamantly denying the claim that I would enjoy spending time with Hermione in _that way_. Harry took my silence and the goofy grin on my face as a sign of my undying devotion, which is really rather unfair. I wasn't necessarily thinking about Hermione. I could have been thinking about anything. I could be disgusted by the mere mention of Hermione and I outside a purely platonic setting. I could be imagining myself with some other girl. I could be seeing some other girl in my dreams every night. I also could also be a forty-two year old woman named Bertha, but I'm not.

Harry keeps telling me to just gather up my courage and tell her how I feel. I told him I bloody well wouldn't until I knew how she felt. He said that was the stupidest thing he ever heard and was wondering if I was going to arrange some tutoring sessions with Trelawney to fine-tune my mind reading skills. I remembered we had Divination homework and asked him for some ideas for nightmares to put down in my dream diary. He looked at me disgustedly and walked away.

But I digress.

So that leaves me here, trudging up to Gryffindor tower from quidditch practice by myself, the-boy-who-lived-to-abandon-his-best-friend-in-his-time-of-greatest-need-to-go-and-snog-said-friend's-sister far ahead of me.

When I finally reached the common room I saw Harry kneeling beside a chair, talking quietly to someone in it. A grin spread across his face as he sprang up from the floor, embraced mysterious-person-in-chair and cried out, "We're going to be related someday!"

Good Lord, he wasn't proposing to my sister was he? He couldn't! We were only sixteen years old! And Ginny…Ginny was just fifteen. Was he just proposing so he could…could…you know…_consummate_ the marriage?

Words could not express my feelings for Harry at the moment. As I began to stride over to where Harry stood to make sure he could never have children with Ginny--or anyone else for that matter--everything got a million times worse.

"Are you serious?" Hermione's voice squealed from the chair.

At this point I froze and several unpleasant things happened at once. For one, my Adam's apple lodged itself uncomfortably in my throat; my heart lept as if it was trying to escape my chest, then broke into a thousand tiny pieces; and last, my stomach dropped down to some region near my toes.

This was wrong on so many levels.

To start out with, Harry was proposing to Hermione. Secondly, Harry was going out with my sister at the time of said proposal. Thirdly, Hermione accepted. Fourthly, Harry knew how I felt about Hermione; why would he stab me in the back like this? Fifthly, why would Harry _want_ to marry Hermione? He told me he thought of her as the sister he never had.

Harry had a messed up view of the kind of love brothers and sisters share. I for one would never think of Ginny like…like…like that.

You know what a great thing about life is? It's never so bad that it can't get WORSE!

"So when are you going to tell Ron?" Harry asked Hermione.

"Me? I'm not telling him anything!" Hermione exclaimed.

Not telling me anything? What the bloody hell was she going on about?

"So I suppose I'll be the one telling him?" Harry asked, eyebrows raised.

Oh yes you will be telling me Mr. Potter. The least you can do when you make plans to marry the girl of your best mate's dreams is to tell him about it! And after you tell me we'll have a nice little discussion about stealing girls from best mates and cheating on best mates' sisters. Except replace the word 'discussion' with 'fistfight'.

"No, you won't tell him either." Hermione said determinedly.

Not tell me? Did they actually think they could hide this from me? Did they actually think that I was so thick that—

Ok, maybe they've got a point there.

"We have to tell him Hermione." Harry said.

"He'll find out eventually." Hermione said briskly. "But we need to talk about the matter at hand. You actually want to marry—"

"Sh!" Harry cut her off. "I mean, I'm not sure. I can't imagine another way to spend my life though."

Hermione squealed yet again, and hugged Harry yet again. As I was furiously trying to remember what Snape had said about undetectable poisons today Harry spoke again.

"You can't tell Ginny about this though. I don't want to lose her." Harry said, looking worried.

"Harry, even if I told her I doubt she'd mind." Hermione said, smiling.

Oh I think Ginny _would_ mind that Harry was going to run off and marry Hermione. I know I minded.

Harry smiled sheepishly back at Hermione.

I couldn't take this anymore.

"What the bloody hell are you two going on about!" I bellowed.

Hermione's face paled. She squeaked, and proceeded to run up to the girl's dormitory. I watched her go.

"Now look at what you've done Ron." Harry sighed.

"No." I said through clenched teeth. "I'm glad she's gone. We need to have a man to man talk, right here, right now."

"Ron?" Harry said, a confused look on his face.

"Yes _buddy_?" I replied, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

"What do you think is going on?" Almost instantaneously Harry slapped his forehead with his palm in sudden realization. "You heard me say I was going to be related to Hermione and you assumed—"

"That you two will be related after you get married? Yeah. That's about it. How could you Harry? You _knew_ how I felt about her." I said in disbelief.

Harry groaned. "Listen Ron, Hermione and I _will_ be related after we get married."

I pulled back my arm and released a punch on my former best mate. Cursing his qudditch reflexes, and rubbing my bruised knuckles that had just collided with the wall of the common room I almost missed Harry's next sentence.

"But we're not going to marry each other." Harry said simply.

I looked at him blankly. "You're not? Then how would you be—"

Harry sighed again. "Ron have you heard of brothers-in-law and sisters-in-law?"

"Of course I have!" I said sharply. "But you don't have a brother, and Hermione doesn't have a sister so how does that work?"

Harry gaped at me. "You're joking. Come on Ron, think."

Then it hit me.

"Oh." I breathed. I looked up the stairs to the girls' dormitory, then back at Harry. "Oh." I repeated.

"Yeah." Harry said. "Yeah."

**A/N: **Like I said, not my best work, but it wasn't awful…was it? Please, give me feedback, including, but not limited to: whether I should continue or not. Does it stand by itself alright? **Thanks for reading!**


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